


The Mark

by Plasticgalaxy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Female Reader, Oral Sex, Talon - Freeform, Very minor violence, cis female reader, dive bar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plasticgalaxy/pseuds/Plasticgalaxy
Summary: You're a relatively new but skilled agent for Talon, carrying out recons and assassinations of important targets for them. All of that changes when you fumble your mission to catch the gunslinger outlaw, Jesse McCree.





	The Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh, I had an urge to write a McCree/reader fic. Not entirely sure where it's gonna go yet, but enjoy the smut~

**** You looked up from your phone to the red neon sign above the door that simply read “Sporty’s” in a cursive font.  _ This is the place? _ you thought to yourself with mild disdain, peering into the grimy window at one of the diviest dives you’ve ever seen. And you’d been to some pretty questionable places in your short time as a Talon agent.

You checked your phone again. Yep, this was unfortunately the place. And your source — which was  _ very _ reliable — insisted that  _ he _ was here every Thursday, like clockwork.

_ Oh well, _ you thought to yourself, adjusting your breasts in your push up bra before heading inside,  _ no one ever got their targets by staying clean. _

It was still early in the evening, but the bar was relatively busy. Classic rock jams pumped out of a wall-mounted jukebox, occasionally punctuated by the clacking of billiards balls against each other at a very worn pool table in the corner. The place smelled like beer, cigarettes, and poor life choices. Several pairs of eyes settled on you as the breeze followed you in from outside. Being the center of attention was never really your style, but tonight, you were just going to roll with it. Tugging briefly on the lapels of your leather biker jacket, you headed for the far end of the bar with a swing in your step.

You glanced around the bar as you eased into your drink, careful not to let your gaze linger on any one person for too long or seem like you were too interested in what was going on around you. This wasn’t the kind of place where you wanted to get yourself involved in someone else’s business. It didn’t seem like  _ he _ was here yet, but people were coming and going with some degree of regularity.

Then finally, as you were finishing up your second drink and wondering to yourself if this was even worth it, your target entered the bar. Tall, dark, and handsome, as he’d been described. He wasn’t entirely your type, but you’d definitely give him a second glance. His shaggy brown hair was pulled into a stumpy ponytail at the nape of his neck, and he sported about three days worth of scruff on his face, instead of the full beard he’d had in the dossier you’d read on him. He had a real simple midwestern look to him in his flannel button-down, jeans, and pointed boots, but the bionic left arm hinted at a much more interesting character. He seated himself at the other end of the bar and lit up a cigar as the bartender brought him a drink and a shot.

“Another one, please!” You called out to the bartender, waving at the rough-looking middle aged woman pouring drinks. She acknowledged you with a nod and brought you another vodka tonic. Before she could leave you to help another customer, you slid a fifty dollar bill across the bar at her. She raised an eyebrow at you.

“What else can I getcha?” She asked knowingly, leaning her elbows on the bar across from you. This clearly wasn’t her first rodeo. The woman had been paid for information plenty of times before.

“What can you tell me about that guy who just came in?” You removed your fingertip from the folded bill and fiddled with the straw in your drink. The bartender looked back over her shoulder, then flipped her blonde hair before accepting your bribe and pocketing it.

“Cowboy looking fellow? Been known to shoot a little pool, but keeps to himself mostly. Some folks say that he was in a gang or somethin’, but he don’t seem like the type. Real polite, and he’s quite a ladies’ man. Says please and thank you. Tips real well.” She offered quietly.

“What’s he drinking?” Your eyes wandered back over to his hunched figure and the smoke lazily curling from the end of his cigar.

“Whiskey and tequila, it’s what he always gets.”

“Thanks.” You shuddered inwardly at his drink choice combination, but you were pretty sure you had a good idea of what kind of guy he was.  _ Real simple. _ This would probably be your easiest target yet.

After finishing your drink, you slid out of your seat and made your way across the bar towards your target. He hadn’t noticed you yet. You sidled up to the bar next to him with an unignorable proximity and leaned an elbow on the countertop.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” You offered, making sure his brown eyes met yours before you looked away demurely. He seemed quite surprised, and sat back in his seat as he drank up your features and curves, not shy about letting his gaze stray. A smirk curled the corners of his mouth.

“I do believe that’s my line, ma’am,” he chuckled, a deep, smoky voice with a thick midwestern twang. With a voice like that, you could listen to him talk all day and not get tired of it. It was a shame he’d probably be dead by the end of the night.

“Then you should’ve asked it first.” You smirked at him before calling the bartender over for a pair of tequila shots.

“So what’s a fine lady like you doin’ in a place like this?” He asked, settling his cigar precariously on the edge of a nearby ashtray as the shots were served.

“Just passing through,” you replied, holding up your shot glass to clink against his. He raised his eyebrows in mock suspicion.

“Most people don’t just ‘pass through’ the sticks of New Mexico,” he mused before downing his shot. You drank about half of yours before flicking your wrist and splashing the rest on the dirty floor as you came back down. It was a trick you’d picked up during your clubbing days to avoid getting too drunk. Most people would still be reeling from taking their own shot to pick up on your swift movement, and never took notice of the spills on the floor of such a dimly lit place. You took a moment to wince as the tequila burned its way down your throat. God, you  _ hated _ tequila.

“I’m not most people,” you quipped back before sucking on a slice of musty lime that was offered on a napkin. “Anyway, hi, I’m Beth,” you offered your hand. Of course, that wasn’t your real name, but you had an entire persona and background made up for tonight.

“Jesse,” he responded, grasping your hand gently but firmly in his flesh one and pressing his lips to it. “It’s a real pleasure.” You let out a laugh.  _ Ladies’ man indeed. _

You sat with him through another round of drinks, talking about your aspirations as an actress and how you were on your way to California to pursue a career. All lies, but he drank up every word of it. Jesse offered very little about himself, and chose instead to keep the conversation about you, much to your annoyance. You already knew quite a bit about him, though, and his reluctance to offer up the information was only a minor roadbump. Despite that, you found yourself enjoying the conversation with him. That was rare for you.

“Hey, you up for a game of pool?” You stood from your stool, leaving a few bills on the bar as tip. You’d noticed over the past few minutes that the pool table was vacated for the time being, and you wanted to see what kind of skills this guy had. Call it morbid curiosity. “If you win, I’ll buy you another drink.”

“An’ if you win?” He grinned at you.

“If I win…” You tapped a finger against your lip thoughtfully, and then leaned in close to him. “If I win, you have to come back to my hotel room and show me a good time.”

“Now that don’t hardly seem fair,” Jesse laughed, “You make a man wanna lose on purpose, and either way I get somethin’ good out of it.”

“Okay so if I win, you buy drinks,” you tapped a finger on the bit of his tanned chest that was exposed and lightly dragged your nail across the skin in small circles, “but either way, you’re gonna end up in my bed.” You practically whispered the last bit at him, and you could tell he was totally on board. A muscle in his jaw jumped. God, men like him were  _ so easy. _ You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some little thrill at the prospect of bedding this beefcake of a man. However, if all went according to plan, it wouldn’t even get that far.

The two of you made your way over to the pool table and he set the rack while you grabbed a couple of cues. To your surprise, he was quite skilled, with his metal arm being much more articulate than you expected. Still, you were slightly better, and out of five games you won three, despite his constant banter and joking quips about your ‘city girl form.’

“Well shit, ‘sbeen a while since someone could match me like that,” he nodded thoughtfully, leaning his pool cue against the wall. “Guess you won fair and square, though.”

“Time for you to make good on it.” You closed the distance between your bodies, but stopped just short of your breasts barely grazing against his chest as you peered intently up into his face. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle as he brushed your hair back off your shoulder.

Next thing you knew, you were being slammed against the wall of your hotel room, wrists pinned above your head as Jesse worked his way with hot kisses and nibbles down your neck. As he moved his hands down your body you tangled your fingers in his hair, loosing his locks from the hair tie and pulling his face back up to yours. His lips tasted like cigar smoke and whiskey and you couldn’t stand it, but you wanted more at the same time.

Heat pooled between your legs and you quickly reminded yourself that you had a job to do. You pushed him back towards the bed as you undid the buttons of his shirt. Jesse was already hard and as his calves hit the edge of the bed, he pulled you flush against him by your hips and you could feel the full length of his erection through his jeans. A thrill pulsed through you as you thought about all of that inside of you.  _ Right, the job. _

Jesse spun you around and laid you down on the bed, crawling on top of you.  _ Good, _ you thought,  _ this makes my job so much easier. _ Attempting to get him with the tranquilizer would've been nearly impossible with you on top, and you'd probably actually have to have sex with him before you did it. Not that it would necessarily be a bad thing in this situation. He pushed your shirt up and trailed kisses down your stomach while unbuttoning your pants. You lifted your hips and in one swift movement he tugged off your pants and your underwear and settled between your legs, throwing your knees over his shoulders. 

“What are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as Jesse nipped at your inner thighs, the scratch of his scruff against the sensitive skin there sending electric shocks up your spine.

“I have… a strict policy… of ‘ladies first’” He murmured into your sex, pausing his words to plant wet, lingering kisses closer and closer but not quite where you needed his mouth the most. Jesus, he just might be perfect. You'd allow yourself this guilty pleasure before taking him out.

And christ, you were glad you did. The man  _ definitely _ knew his way around down there. Before long, he had you writhing in ecstasy and screaming his name as he brought you to to the edge and sent you careening over, then slowed his ministrations to match the throbbing of your orgasm as you came back down. As you laid there recovering, your skin damp with a fine sweat, Jesse shrugged out of his shirt and wiped his face on it, then crawled back over you, trailing the tip of his tongue gently along your jaw and up to your ear. You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck as you turned into his kisses. 

Without missing a beat, you slipped the small vial out from your cuff bracelet, but in turning it around to press the small button, you fumbled it. Crap. You weren’t that drunk, were you? You were able to catch it, but in that small moment that your attention was diverted, Jesse took notice.

“What the fuck?” He muttered, grabbing your wrist from behind his neck and prying your fist open. He relieved you of your tranquilizer vial and clambered off the bed, examining it with a growing concern.

Well, you were fucked. 

You scrambled off the bed and grabbed up your pants, hoping at the least that you could make it out of this alive. Jesse McCree was, after all, a very dangerous man. A fact that had managed to escape you all evening up until this very moment. You had just finished pulling your pants back on when you heard the click of a gun safety very close behind you. Slowly, you lifted your hands up defensively, and turned to face the source. 

Jesse’s facial features had hardened, and he scowled disdainfully at you as he pointed his revolver at your face.

“Who do you work for?” He growled. You hesitated, and he stepped forward, pressing the barrel of his gun against your forehead. Would your answer even matter at this point? He was going to kill you either way, you were sure of it. “Who do you work for?!” He asked again, a little louder, a little angrier.

You simply stared at him with the best doe eyes you could muster. You’d rather be dead than deal with the reaming you’d get from your employer for revealing them. But, just maybe, you could charm your way out of this one.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Jesse groaned angrily, and you shut your eyes tight as you heard another click. Seconds passed, and nothing happened. Opening your eyes again, you watched as Jesse shoved the revolver into the back of his waistband. “I’m gonna regret this,” he started, running his fingers roughly through his hair, “but you’re damn lucky you’re beautiful.”

Did your heart just skip a beat? No, it must’ve just been the fear of death. Even though that had been trained out of you a long time ago.

“Hey, look, we could just forget this all happened and…” You decided to take the opportunity and attempt to seduce him again. Jesse watched you with a stony expression as you took a couple steps to close the distance between your bodies, and the apple of his throat jumped as you ran your hands across his bare chest up to his shoulders. He allowed you to kiss him, and his hands found their way around your waist as he melted into the kiss. But it lasted only a moment before he was pushing you away, his hands firmly at your shoulders as he held you at arm’s length.

“No,” he growled firmly. “I won’t let ya fool me again.” He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the bathroom area of the hotel room. You were thrown down onto the floor next to the sink as Jesse grabbed a towel and tore it into strips. You attempted to scramble away but he grabbed you with his metal hand, the cold digits digging into your flesh. That was definitely going to bruise. You put up a good fight but he overpowered you, pressing both of your wrists against the drain pipe under the sink and firmly tethering you there with the strips of towel.

He should’ve just killed you when he had the chance; this was much more humiliating.

“So what’s this?” Jesse crouched in front of you, holding the small vial between the thumb and finger of his flesh hand. “Was it supposed ta kill me or sedate me?”

You offered no response except for a scathing glare.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we pumpkin?” He leaned over you and aligned the injector end of the vial with the side of your neck. “It’s a real shame,” he breathed over your lips, teasing the barest hint of contact, “If ya hadn’t tried ta fuck me over, I woulda really liked ya.” You turned away from the gentle kiss he attempted to plant on your lips, and you felt the burning sting on your neck as the vial was applied.

The last thing you saw before you passed out was Jesse grabbing his discarded clothing and effects and leaving the door wide open as he left the room.


End file.
